The Wizarding Tournaments
by huff-slyn-dor-claw
Summary: The Wizarding Tournaments It is said to be a "friendly" competition. But the wizards that are to compete know that's a far cry from reality. Competing are children of the Parkinsons, to the Krumbs, to the very Potters. So let The Wizarding Tournaments begin, and may you fight with dignity for your school, your house, but above all your family. "T" is just to be safe.
1. Great Expectations

In all the years at Hogwarts, all those soundless nights, those awkward moments in classes or even in times of mourning; I've never heard a silence quite this loud. This tournament is supposed to be raging with action, with loud noises left and right, yet why don't see anything? Do the rest of the twenty three warriors realize this too? Shouldn't there be a dragon or some vicious creature in our midst, or a sign that we are going to die very soon? Because from right here, I see nothing. No sign of trouble or danger. I can't decide which is worse.

I shake my head and send out my last parting thoughts with the world, because as I'm pulling my hair into a bun with trembling fingers, I finally see it; the countdown. The numbers are magically marked across the tinted blue sky, warning us, that the terror of these games are only about to begin. _This is it. Now or never. Do or die. Fight or flight_. Flight, I quickly decide as I look at my fellow… targets? Is that what you'd call someone you are about to kill? A target? Perhaps a victim. No matter the name, most of them are intimidating. Half of them probably had professional training, and are superb students in every subject. I make a mental checklist in my head, _there are twenty three wizards in front of me. Some from Durmstrang, some from Beauxabaton and many from, well, Hogwarts._ The numbers on the countdown are decreasing rapidly, or so it seems to me. I wonder where Kellan is, because even though we're both Slytherins, something hints at me that we aren't going to form an alliance anytime soon. The countdown is reaching to it's last digits, so I review the rules in my head, for one final time, because in ten seconds they are about to come into play. One: The usage of any of the unforgivable curses is strictly prohibited. Two: This will result in an automatic sentence to the Dementor's Kiss. Three: Only one can survive.

_Five, four, three, two, one _. With a forceful blow of magic, we are let off our brooms and are force into a stretch of green field, also known as the Quidditch Pitch. Not even nanoseconds have gone by and there are spells, curses, jinxs, spurred in every direction possible. I haven't even gotten up yet, when someone hurls a Confringo enchantment my way. Luckily she had a poor aim, but the grass a few inches away was already engulfed by the flames. I quickly sit up, send a stunning charm at the Gryffindor warrior, whom I recall is Justin Finnigan, and run, as fast as I can to avoid being killed in the first few seconds of this tournament_. No way am I going to be pushed out of this competition already, the fight has merely started and I don't want to leave life too soon; even if it comes to these ludicrous games._ The sun has risen high and sweat is already dripping down my face, this was not how I thought things were going to start. Ironically, the silence is immediately diminished, and replaced with screams, yelps, and cries that fill my eardrums. I am making my way for the stands, when something catches my eye. Something bright, shiny, metallic. I shade my face from the blistering heat as I move toward the faint glare, whilst dodging spells and chucked bodies. I spot it, and then stop dead in my tracks. The light that sparked off came from a cup. But not just any cup, to my bewilderment, it came from the same cup that was used in the _Triwizard _Tournaments. The same trophy that brought Cedric Diggory to his death. The same cup that brought Harry Potter, the boy who lived, to his fate with Voldemort. I look around to see if anyone else has spotted it, and someone else has; a Dumrstrang tribute.

I think his name is Vladimir; but I really could care less at the moment, because he's charging my way. Almost like a trance, I discover a reflex I didn't even know I had, and was capable of. I grab my wand tightly and yell, "Expelliamus!", but Vlad is quick on the uptake, and ducks. He rolls to his stomach and starts crawling quickly to the cup. I do the same, because this seemed like a much more productive way of dodging the spells that were constantly generated every three seconds. We both are crawling fast, our uniforms already streaked with mud and stained with grass and what looked like fresh blood. Noticing this, I take an abrupt glance at the field and momentarily wish I hadn't. This portkey is only inches away from me, I grab it and brace myself for the swirling events that would occur after it. I hold on tightly waiting for my stomach to be sick at any second and shut my eyes closed. But even in the midst of the dizziness and nausea, I feel a glimmer of gratitude and confidence. _Maybe I can win this, I got to the portkey and I'm still intact and alive. Some warriors didn't even make it this far_, I think to myself, as I recall the image of the wizards bodies' scattered randomly across the grass laying motionless, their blood leaving marks on my clothes. _All of this is wrong and sick and inhuman, life is short enough, and this competition isn't helping_ . It's hard to think that I knew some of those kids, and the thing that was the most magical at Hogwarts was what killed them.

I was still spinning rapidly for a couple seconds, before my body hit the ground with enough force to practically break a rib. I hastily rise up and check myself, spending an extra couple of moments checking my ribcage. I feel bruised everywhere and my body feels like it was stretched unnaturally and all my limbs are exceedingly sore, more than they have ever been in my life (including the time I collided with a bludger in a quiddich try-out ). I also realize that the ride blurred my vision, so I start squinting and blinking to figure out where on earth I am. It is dark, damp and freezing. And as I walk I can hear crunching, so I bend down and stroke the ground; and to my surprise, I feel thick, moist leaves. _Am I…in a forest? _My eyes are still watery andI rub them, but no luck. _I need to take a breather, _I think as I sit down on a pile of leaves. Placing my head in between my legs and my wand in my lap, I start to doze off. This place was still, relaxing and silent, but in an eerie way like I'm not supposed to be here. _Nonsense, why else would I have been put here? _I breathe deeply and try to figure out my next move, my next plan. But my eyes keep distracting me. They burn as I try to concentrate, and I suddenly become conscious to the fact that I have a wand with me. _What an idiot, _I scold myself. I draw out my wand from my lap and lift it above my eyes. "Aguamenti", I whisper, and streams of water pour out of my wand as I rinse my eyes.

Finally my eyes regain vision, but with a price. I can't see as nearly as good as I used to, my vision isn't as sharp as it should be. _That portkey must have had an enchantment_. I shrug it off and get up, hoping to do some scoping, maybe I can figure out where I am. As I start to get up, I hear a noise; a sort of quiet rustling. This alarms me so much, that I let out a squeal, which triggers a jet of light to come at me. I quickly clap my hand to my mouth and whip out my wand from my pocket, ready for a fight. I slowly stand straight up and peer through what looks like a tree. _This is a forest, _I confirm.I lower my gaze to what seems to be a shadow, it was still, like me. I crouch down to get a better look, and what I thought was a shadow, was a pair of boots, thick, black and…manly. My eyes grew big once I realized this was another warrior, but not just any warrior; it was Vlad. _He must have grabbed the portkey the same time I did! His eyes are probably burning too,_ I think, and figure that the spell was casted from him. By the time I put this all together, he is already a couple steps ahead of me. Out of the crowd of trees, he lashes out and yells something, but I am too busy leaping out off the way to pay any attention. I hide behind the closest tree, using it as a shield, but this turned out to be a massive mistake. He instantly sets the whole forest on fire, and as I swirl around, flames start jumping from tree to tree making their way up the trunks and branches, seeming practically impossible for me to take any cover, and forcing me to duel with him one on one. I swallow hard and turn around promptly, dreading to face what might be my end. I begin to take in the image of this tribute. He's roughly around the age of a seventh year, tall, naturally buff, has jet black hair, and thick eyebrows, and a bulky nose that his stern stare peers over.

I can already feel my hands starting to dampen, and not to mention the burning sensation in my eyes is starting to come back. And not because of the enchantment, but this time because of the smoke. Without any warning, Vlad in his Russian accent ,shouts, "OPPUGNO!" and a horde of boulders fly my direction.

"Protego!" I shout and most of the boulders fall down but a couple manage to continue their path, one strikes me in my left shoulder and the other grazes my right flank. I scream in sheer pain. I think my shoulder is dislocated, but this isn't enough to satisfy the Durmstang student. He wants me knocked out and more importantly, dead. It's becoming increasingly difficult to see and breathing is becoming a struggle, and there is no sign of the fire slowing down. I struggle to get up, but in fact, I actually want to just lie here and see what becomes of me. The throbbing of my shoulder is so intense that I feel like searing it off, and the smoke is going to kill me if nothing else did. The atmosphere is so fierce it is burning my skin off. _I have to get out of here, I need to get out of here_. My breathes are growing further apart, so I'm doing my best not to panic. As I'm gaining balance, I trip over the boulder that smashed me and land on my left shoulder, making me yell in more agony, my shoulder stinging worse than before. I notice Vlad coming closer to me with his wand raised, waiting for the perfect time to finish me off. I grope for my wand, and point it at the wizard. By this time we both are coughing hysterically, and I can barely make out Vlad because of the combination of sweat and tears covering my eyes. I feel so weak. So helpless.

"Get away from me!" I scream pathetically, as if that was going to help. This just makes him laugh. "Expelliarmus!" I say, hoping that I'm aiming for my target, but with these thick clouds of smoke, I could be aiming at a bush. The spell misses his wand and now he is towering over me like I am a vulnerable puppy. Well, he does have a right to think that. It's probably what I look like right about now. The flames are so close to me that I'm struck with fear, I can't move, I'm paralyzed. _Don't give up yet, not so soon. Think about Mother and Father . Stay alive for them. And for them only. C'mon Willow be strong, be… heroic. You're a Malfoy , and Malfoy's don't give up. Be fearless. _With great effort, I force myself to lift my leg up and kick Vlad has hard as my body is capable of. I believe I kicked him in the place where it might effect the procreation of his children, so bringing my combat boots seemed to be a good choice. He grimaces in pain, and falls to the burnt ground. This is my chance to escape. _What should I do? Kill him? Or just stun him? How do you get rid of an enemy? _I decide to not kill him. I am not a killer, not yet anyway. _But stunning would be too easy, _I think, wracking my brains for a spell. Vlad starts to mumble something, but before he even has the chance to pick up his arm, I point my wand and whisper "Petrificus Totalus" and just like that he's frozen, petrified in his own ambition.

I take a deep breath, and realize how difficult it is to get oxygen into my lungs. I steal a look around and see that the whole forest is now swallowed up by flames, and not a patch of green is visible. I wipe my eyes, unsure of how to escape. For the third time I get up, with success, and although I am still burning with pain, I manage to find a small space, free of flames. I run to it without hesitation, and make clear of the growing fire. I run like I have never ran before, as if I thought about running any faster, I'd take off the ground and take wing into the sky, free. I keep running for a good twenty minutes. If I didn't have to catch my breath, I wouldn't have but luckily I do. Just a couple hundred yards away, I notice a hill, rich with green grass, practically calling my name and beckoning me toward it. I rush up the hill that is still alive and untouched by the inferno, and I decide that this is far enough away from the fire. Because chances are, another warrior would come looking for me. I happily notice that my breathing has comeback to normal and with my sight clear of smoke, try to focus on the real problems that I am force to face.

Food: _Where was I going to get any? And how? _Shelter: Is_ there any even near here? _Donors: _Which Hogwarts professor would actually support me?_ I yawn, rub my face, and consider my options. I can try to build myself a shelter of some sort…leaves maybe? _But all of the sturdy leaves were probably burned in the fire._ With a deep sigh, I draw my attention to my surroundings. The fog no longer hovered over and as far as my eyes can see, nothing can realistically hurt me, there are no trees, no rocks, no clouds, and oddly enough no birds. Pity, I was hoping to hear some of their sweet songs that the winds carried through the breeze. This sort of activity of survival needs some music lingering in the background. I lick my index finger and stick it out in the air. No breeze either. For something that is supposed to attract thousands of people to watch, nothing very fascinating is worth watching. Then again, there is probably a warrior out here facing a showdown, creating an entertaining scene for all viewers. I wonder, if I wasn't in this tournament of doom, would I be a viewer? Would I be the one watching every student's death in deep detail, my eyes glazed over with a film of addictiveness to this so called "game"? I may be in Slytherin, but we would never sink into watching something as vile as this. Well, I wouldn't. Come to think of it, it's not a very comforting fact, because I believe I am the most misplaced student in my year, according to my classmates. Sometimes I wonder if the Sorting Hat gets lazy, and puts kids into random houses based on nothing but looks.

But then I remember something that was once said about Slytherins, "_those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends". _If any doubt lies in me about whether or not I am a true serpent, I think about this, because the statement describes me through and through. And because this subject is tearing my brains apart, I move onto something else. I can feel the temperature starting to fall, and as I look up, so is the sun; night is approaching. My body gives a quick shiver and I get up to place some barriers. "Salvio Hexia", I mutter, while waving my wand in fluid motions through the air. That happens to be the only protective enchantment I know, and hopefully it will be enough. Judging by the amount of light in the sky, I'm guessing it's around seven in the afternoon, and gazing at my surrounding landscape, I want to get an early start tomorrow morning, soon before other warriors awake. An unpleasant feeling arises deep within my stomach, I've been so focused on my personal struggles within society, that I have forgotten to eat. I groan at the thought of having to actually_ get _my food, as I am so accustomed to plopping onto a bench in the Great Hall and have the food magically appear in front of me. Although with the barrier set in place, it makes it much safer to explore the nearby terrain, without setting myself into a trap, which I feel like I am achieving constantly.

Plucking out the blades of grass clinging to my jacket and pants, still aware of my shoulder, I make my way across the rolling fields and yet again wrack my mind for some useful spells. "Accio food", I mutter, waiting for some sort of reply. My hands drop to my side in loss, I honestly didn't think that would have worked anyway. It would be much too simple, but I am growing desperate. From a great distance away, I can make out the outline of the forest from which I had just escaped. I am certain that there is a plentiful amount of food, or what I could qualify as food, but the risk of something lurking in between branches, bushes, and beds of who knows what, is much too high. _At least I can quench my thirst, _I suppose, as I spray my mouth with more water, but it ended up as face wash. I am not the most orderly person you'll meet, I am absolutely prone to spilling things. I slowly trudge my way up the hill, my feet dragging themselves every step of the way and my face drenched in the waters of disappointment and failure. I kneel over trying to wipe my face dry with my sleeves, and realized they were goners, burnt to smithereens and the Slytherin crest on it is no longer there.

Just as I was about to tie my uncooperative shoelace, I am pelted with small objects. Quickly, I jump up and bear out my wand and send a spell from the direction of the assault. As I spin out to truly aim for my attacker, I am deeply troubled. No one is in sight. I take a swift glance behind me, but still to no avail, no warrior to be seen. Still doubting the disappearance of my aggressor, I say "Homenum Revelio" in an undertone. And to my sheer surprise, no tribute appeared. I let my perplexity get to the best of me, and I sit down, defeated, and just as I start to sit down, my right hand presses down on something solid. I pick it up to examine it, and to my delight and amusement, a handful of walnuts lie beneath me. I begin to laugh at my delayed spell but quickly stop because my arm aches. I clear my throat and examine my shoulder, in spite of my rumbling out-of-control stomach. I draw my attention towards the problem of getting my shoulder back to where it belongs. I dare myself not to look at it to deeply, ever since I could read, images and real life examples of the body not as it should be never laid well with my stomach. Still, my curiosity has gotten to me, so I peel my scorched shirt backwards, peering with difficulty to where my bone now is. As I stare at my shoulder I notice a lump about the size of a half a small orange thrusting out limply from the side of my upper limb._ This must be where my bone starts._ I grimace at the thought of having to push it pack in, but I am left with no other choice. I take out my wand and point it at my shoulder. I pause briefly to remember the enchantment. I turn my head cowardly the other direction and squint both of my eyes to refrain from seeing, if it happened, another one of my failures. A couple of very deep breathes later, I concentrate on the spell, brace myself, for the pain, and say. "Episky", which barely seems to come out of mouth. I hear a loud crack and a shriek finds its way out of clenched jaw. I wince at the forceful jolt and after a couple of seconds, I tear my eyes open and turn to my shoulder.

Pulling back the singed fabric again, I look at what progress I have made. My shoulder appeared to be back to normal, flesh, bone and all. Releasing the breath that I was holding in, I sit down lightly and begin to exercise my shoulder gently. I pick up my walnuts and chew them with infinite pleasure, crunching them in silence, my grin growing wider with every bite. The sun is no longer visible as it makes its way below eye level, winking it's last message of hope. By the time I'm done munching my dinner, the stars start to come out, their everlasting twinkling signaling their presence has arrived. It wasn't long before my eyelids started to feel heavy. Usually on a beautiful night like this, I'd stay up. But with all that has happened today, I think I can make an exception. In fetal position I lay on the grass, waiting out my fears, calling sleep to me. I have tried many new things today, some I will never do again, and right now is no exception. For the first time in my life, I pray. I'm not sure to who or what. Just to an existence I suppose. _ Thank you for letting me live one more day longer._ My final thoughts disappear and I clutch my wand tightly before drifting off into my dreams, not bearing to think of what will lie ahead tomorrow.


	2. To Trust or Not To Trust

**I know that last chapter was pretty long and boring, but I just needed a place to start. the other chapters won't be like that I promise! :(**

* * *

_Good morning._ Huh?_ Get up ._No._ Get up!_ NO!_ Wake up, Willow! _Go away, I'm trying to sleep!_ Willow! _WHAT?!_ You're putting yourself in danger. Someone can be standing right above you this very second about to kill you! _

Noticing this I quickly jerk my eyes open and scramble up to a sitting position. I rub my eyes hard and blink for a couple of times before letting out a long yawn. I must have been gripping my wand really tight because I opened my fists to find the red and raw. Iwipe them on my pants, while stealing glances of potential predators before me. Amazingly not a single warrior tried to murder me in my sleep, but then I realize that I had set up an enchantment to prevent them. Feeling proud of myself, I start to hum and tie my shoelaces. But it still seemed peculiar. Someone was bound to come and find me right? Or else these games would be much too simple. I soon return to humming, and not before long I notice something rather beautiful. Something was humming along with me, the harmony to the song, so I look up in the sky in sign of a bird. Then I see that the humming stopped along with mine. I start again suspiciously, waiting for the bird to chime in, and sure enough it did. But as I listen more intently, I recall fact that I established yesterday afternoon. My stomach plummeted with anxiety; _there are no birds here._

With a racing heart, I turn my body around to discover my answer, and nearly fall backwards in shock. Starring at me is a girl and a boy warrior, both smirking. The second part of my duet must have come from the girl. She elbows the boy next to her.

"I told you it would work." She says, laughing. The boy laughs along with her. _So this is what I'm up against, two sick pranksters. _No big deal. I grab my wand, stand up, and point it at their faces.

"Expelliarmus!" the girl shouts and my wand flies out from my grasp and into hers. Her smirk grows wider. I stand rooted to the ground, to shock to react. Merlin, how did they get past my barrier? I was certain that I would be protected!

"How did you do that?" I blurt out. They look at each other and raise their eyebrows, signaling looks as if I'm mental.

"You're a witch, aren't you?" she asks hesitantly.

"I'm talking about getting past my enchantment!" I snap at her. She looks only about a year or two older than me, around the age of seventeen or eighteen, with flawless skin and not a trace of blood, dirt or sweat on her face. I have to force myself to stop gawking at her.

"Oh, _that_? That was really weak. I bet you weren't concentrating hard enough." she says simply. My tolerance for her is slowly disintegrating. I look at both warrior in front of me, planning my next move .

"So what are you going to do with me now? Kill me?" I snarl, doing my best to keep the shakiness out of my voice.

The girl hesitates. "Actually, we were thinking about-"

"Because I won't let you!" I yell and next thing I know I'm clawing the girl's hand open, raking my nailS against her flesh. She yelps in shock and pain, struggling to keep the wands out of my reach. She lifts me over her shoulders, and from the corner of my eye I can see the boy advancing on me. I thrash and kick to worm my way out of the situation, my options are clearly limited without a wand, and I'm not going down without a fight. The boy barely even touches my arm before I growl, "Get away from me!" I have a feeling that this is going to be my uncertified catchphrase. Right as I was about to bite his hand, a sorrowful look clouded his eyes.

"Stupefy", he says calmly.

I feel the curse hit my neck, and a rigid sensation flows through my veins. Shock absorbs all feeling after that, and all my senses are muted. I can see darkness caving in on my eyes. Being stunned is peculiar. You have no sense of direction, time, feeling. All a wizard can do is think. So that's what I do; think. _Okay, calm down, Willow, control yourself._ I try rolling my eyes at my own pun, but to no avail. _Once I become mobile again, I'll trick them into giving back my wand, we Slytherins are born clever._ I reassure myself that I'm going to escape. _Now if they would just bring me back!_ I wonder how long it's been, fifteen minutes at least. Wait, stunning jinxes don't last that long! _What's happening to me? _But just right then I instantly come back onto the world. I gasp for air and cough a bit. Lying face up , I roll onto my stomach and stand up swiftly, jerking my head to the voices. Suddenly I am pushed into a chair and ropes strap me in. I let out a scream of frustration while writhing about the chair for some time. I stop shortly after noticing where I am: the Hogwarts library.

I stare in disbelief. _They said the portkey would take us to a secret location! Not where we started! _The back of my eyes become slightly moist. The Ministry can't make us kill each other I our own home. That's barbaric. _Stop being soft and pull yourself together, Willow _I scold myself. Two figures leisurely appear out of the aisles of books. My capturers. They both have books in their arms, glancing through them coolly as if I am invisible. Finally the boy pulls his nose out of a book and takes notice of my glares.

"Oi! Rhea! She stopped." He calls to the girl, and my heart skips a beat. His voice. It's…it's mesmerizing. It has a faint glisten to it, and it radiates good nature. My eyes immediately soften to take a good look at this boy with the astonishing voice. He has messy light brown hair, and his irises are the color of a dusty emerald. His face is slightly scarred, and the blood and dirt stand out against his fair skin. I certainly don't remember seeing him around school, then again I usually just stick around in the common room. I can feel the awkwardness building between us so I shift my gaze away. The ginger haired girl pokes her head out of an aisle and smiles.

"Well, there's a good girl!" she mocks a high pitched tone of a mother cooing her child. I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed with her antics. "Now that we have you settled," she continues but in her normal voice, "you're probably wondering why the Merlin we kidnapped you and forced you into a chair…with restraints." She adds. I roll my eyes successfully and scoff. But even I can't deny that I'm curious.

"Since when did mandrakes talk?" Sarcasm has always been a signature characteristic of mine. The boy chuckles, I suppress my urge to smile.

"Quiet. We have wands remember? And last time I checked you don't have yours."

"Gee, I wonder why…"

"Stop being a sore loser. We won a fair fight."

"Fair? I hardly consider two against one a fair fight."

"Maybe your school doesn't but at my school, three against one is a fair fight." She brings herself up to her full height.

"I didn't know that The Academy of Egotistical Witches were in this competition, did you?" I turn to the boy expecting a smile, but instead I got a hard glare. He obviously didn't think that was a cunning thing to say. Still, I'm too annoyed to care.

"If we weren't in such a dire need of you right now, I'd finish you off. But until that moment comes, I'm stuck with you." She says. In need of me? _So I'm valuable to them_. This is just too good to be true. Now if only I know what they want…

"The pleasure's all mine." I reply blandly, "Why in Merlin's baggy 'Y' fronts do you want _me_ to help _you_?" I question. The girl simply smiles and waves around her wand. I guess I have no other choice. She registers my understanding and pulls up two chairs in front of me, her and the boy sit down and face me with intent stares. They want something from me, badly.

"What?" I snap impatiently. The girl looks to the boy for help, as if she has no idea why I'm needed.

This time the boy replies. "Is it true that you can produce a Patronous Charm?" They are both staring at me so intently that my guard drops.

"Er-yes?" I say uncertainly. This was not the question I was expecting. I've only done it a few times, just to see if I was able to. And only a few people know I can, only Slytherins.

The girl sighs loudly and faces the boy and says in a rushed whisper, "I thought you said she can!"

"She does! He told me she can!" he hisses back. _Who's he? Kellan?_

"Are you sure Parkinson is to be trusted?" Of course it's Kellan. That cowardly snitch.

The boy starts to get frustrated, "Yes! I forced it out of him!"

"Prove it." It took some time for me to realize that she was talking to me. When I finally looked at her, she was drumming her fingers impatiently on the edge of her chair. This is my chance to find out everything I can.

"Tell me who you are first." I say defiantly. Who am I about to show my talents to? Can I trust them? The girl hesitates, but then gives the boy a look that says "_Might as well_". She straightens up in her chair and clears her thought. _This should be good, _I muse.

"I am Rhea Weasley, and I go to Beauxabatons." _Another_ Weasley? I though they all came here. It certainly explains the red hair, but not the clean outfit and school. As if she is reading my mind, or my expression, she says, "I'm representing the Delaclour family." There was no mistake of pride in her voice. No wonder she's flawless. I heard that the Delaclour's are part veela. _But that means her dad is Ronald Weasley's brother…but which one? How many are there again?_ I dismiss the question because I honestly don't care. Once a Weasley ,always a Weasley, and being a Malfoy just got more awkward. So in order to cover it up, I face the boy.

"And you are…"

He squirms a bit in his chair and bites his lip. He obviously looks uncomfortable, like he really doesn't want anybody to find out who he is. Rhea nudges him in the ribs. "It'll be fine." I hear her whisper to him. The boy nods quickly and takes a deep breath. He stares at me, and there is no mistaking the amount of honor in his eyes, and in his voice when he speaks.

"I'm Albus Potter, and I'm from Hogwarts."

_What?! Harry Potter's son? In front of me?_ Merlin I was not expecting that! I don't know how to react. Do I fake a smile and then hate him? Or do I just attack him now? Oh I can't wait until I have the chance to-

_No. No, I'm not like him. That was years ago, and he's a much better person now._ I'm not going to be like my father when he was in school, when he did-things to Harry. I'm different and I'm not defined by my father's actions from a while ago_. I am not going to disgrace my father by repeating his mistakes. I am going to make my father proud. I love him._ But I doubt Albus will be as open minded as me, after all Slytherins and Gryffindors are constantly battling. Once he finds out that I'm a Malfoy, it will be over. I need to gain his trust first.

"So you two are like, cousins?" I ask, hoping they won't ask me my name.

They nod and smile. Then Albus says, "So who are you?" _Great. Just what I wanted._ I raise both eyebrows and try to play off a _'Isn't it obvious' _ sort of vibe. They both catch it and Albus presses on, "Can you at least tell me what house your from-"

"Are you going to let me out of here or not?" I whine, trying to divert their attention of me. It works because they exchange glances at each other.

"Diffindo." Rhea says after pulling out her wand from her pocket. The ropes are cut and my hands and legs are free. I rub them hard and flex them about, making a big deal of my release. I stand up and stretch up while I yawn, trying to buy as much time as possible. I don't know if I'm ready to do this yet. I'm caught off guard because rhea shoves the end of my wand in my stomach, causing me to double over. I glare at her some more.

"Hurry up! We haven't got all day."She snarls.

I grab my wand and I almost want to sing to it that's how much I missed it. Unfortunately there is no time for that. I have to focus on my happiest memory. My life isn't dull and harsh, despite what rumors have said about being in the Malfoy household. But not everyday has been filled with rainbows and unicorns either. We lie somewhere on the middle. Just like every other family. And every single time a produce my Patronous, I think of the same memory.

_I was about eleven and it was a cool July summer morning at the Manor. I was eating breakfast with my mum and we were having a conversation about getting a dog. I was tired of the white peacocks that roamed around the grounds, they were agitating. I could never play with them or cuddle them; they proved useless. So I really wanted a dog at the time, so badly that I asked every morning, just to see if she changed her mind. It was still always the same answer, "We will see, darling." Annoyed, I went back to my toast when my father came into the room, with the family owl, Jude, on his shoulder. He was smiling, something that he rarely did in those days._

_"I think Jude has something for you, Willow." He said, with such a caring nature in his voice. The barn owl flew off his shoulder and landed on the table, envelopes in his beak. My mum made a noise, she usually never permits animals on the table, but I guess even she was in on the surprise. I took the envelopes with curiosity, and I went through them looking for one addressed to me. Sure enough, it was the last one, it had emerald green writing on it, and I felt a thick wax stamp on the back. I slowly opened it up, dragging out the letter and gingerly opening it up to read it. It was my Hogwarts acceptance letter. I smiled so big that my cheeks hurt for the rest of the day. But my smile was just a line compared to my father's. He came over and sat across from me, next to mum, and he looked at me with the proudest eyes in the world._

_"Congratulations, darling. You are officially a witch now. You are going to love it there." His eyes then clouded with something I couldn't recognize back then as regret. He just looked sad to me, so I rushed over to him and gave both my parents a hug. My mum ran her fingers through my hair, and my father bent down and whispered in my ear, "You are going to be the greatest witch Slytherin has ever seen." And by the amount of pride and affection his voice had, it felt like that was what I was destined to be. Then he gave me quick kiss on the cheek, and my memory stopped there._

I hadn't realized that two people were still watching me, so in order to preserve the fleeting moment of happiness, I shout "Expecto Patronum!". A wisp of silvery substance sprouts from the tip of my wand, and right before my eyes, a fox cub leaps in midair circling around the room for a few seconds before disappearing into the silvery fog. I let out my breath and look to my judges, waiting a sign of approval. There expressions are priceless. Rhea gasps out loud and her mouth is hanging so wide it's almost laughable. Albus just looks dazed, but impressed all the same. Once the show stopped, they face me with eager eyes. Rhea is the first to speak.

"You were right Albus, you were right." She repeats. "That was bloody fanastic!" She squeals in delight. I can't help but smile. _Maybe she isn't so bad after all._ Albus's dazed expression hasn't left his eyes as he turns his attention to me.

"I think that was the most incredible thing I've ever seen." He comments. Rhea and him share looks of agreement before smiling at each other. _Relatives_. "What did you say your name was again?"

"I never did, but it's Willow." I answer, smiling.

"Willow…" he repeats as he tests the name out. "It's pretty. Unique."

"Thanks." I reply lamely. Another awkward silence erupts. From the corner of my eye, I can see Rhea roll her eyes. _I hope she doesn't suspect anything._

"Well, I think congratulations are in order! So congrats, and _welcome_ to the club!" Rhea beams. If someone were to tell me that I was going to make an alliance with a Weasley/Delaclour and a Potter two days ago, I would have sent them to St. Mungo's. But know that I'm looking at it, I can't see this any other way.

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**Please review! i am willing to look over any suggestions seeing that this is my first Fanfiction! Please don't be to harsh! and btw next chapters is going to be much more interesting! :D oh, Rhea is Bill and Fleur's kid, not George's (who ****_I_**** think is Victoire)**

**~HSDC**


	3. Do You Hear That?

**I keep forgetting to put a disclaimer, but I'm sure you all know by know that I'm not J. ! So before I present the next chapter, I just wanted to point something out; I see A LOT of you reading, but none of you review! please please please please review! If I'm doing everything wrong, let me know! If you like something, let me know! *sigh* okay, just wanted to get that out of my system. Nevertheless, here's the next chapter! :D Enjoy!**

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It takes a good hour and a half for their excitement to be controlled and an even longer time for it to fade away. After spending three hours in the studious Hogwarts library researching various helpful spells and jinxes, my brain aches from reading and I feel a nap coming on. I'm silently hoping that Rhea is too interested in a book to notice, but of course, my nap does not last long.

"Willow are you sleeping?" she says weakly. I stifle a groan. "Get - up - now!" Every word is followed by a smack on the back of my head. I lift my head to face her. She looks just as tired as I am, but still, determination radiates off of her.

"I'm tired." I yawn bluntly.

"We're_ supposed _to be looking up resourceful spells and jinxes remember?" she says.

"Yeah, I have been!" I mumble. "For three ridiculous hours!"

"It has not been three hours." she defends. Rhea uncertainly looks at the clock that hangs at the end of the library. Sure enough, it was after noon.

"Okay, maybe it has been." She admits. "But it wasn't a waste of time right? I mean, I've memorized a few useful ones. The library at my school, _La Grande Bibliothèque_, is much bigger, still, we don't read the same books as the students here. What about you?"

"Well I'm not much of a book worm. I only come here if I need to study for an exam.' I reply awkwardly.

"Did you find anything?" Her voice edges.

"Oh, of course." I add quickly. She looks relieved and pushes her silvery red hair behind her ears. I was supposed to be blond. But I didn't get the gene from either one of my parents. Instead I have my great aunt Bellatrix's dark, thick hair. So I'm told. I've seen her in a couple of photographs. My parents don't like to talk about her much. My father doesn't anyway.

"I thought Beauxabaton's was in France." I blurt out before I can catch myself. Rhea gives me a funny look.

"It is." She replies placing books back on their shelves, clearing the library tables.

"Then why don't you have an accent?"

She laughs lightly and smiles.

"My father taught me English at home while I learned French at school. I suppose it disappeared overtime." Rhea stares at me intently, her blue eyes swimming with curiosity. I can already feel what she is going to ask me next.

"You said you come here, right?" I nod, figuring out a way to change the subject. She can't know that I'm a Slytherin. She will just tell Albus. _Actually, she might not even know what that means. She's from France, not here. _

"In that case, which house are you in?" My heart drops and I knit my eyes in confusion.

"My cousin Rose comes here, and so does Albus, remember?"She clarifies, clearly seeing my bewilderment. "From what I hear, she is top of her class. She rants about Hogwarts all the time." _Merlin, I forgot she was a Weasley! _Rhea gives a sad smile, "I sometimes wish I cam here." Not knowing what to say, I try to dig my way out of the sticky situation.

"I think you're right. Rose definitely has her mom's brain – from what I've heard." I add promptly. I'm not sure how I know that. I think I remember my father mentioning it awhile back.

Rhea's eyes light up, "You know her?"

"Er – well… not personally. She's just in one of my classes." I invent. It's not a total lie, if you consider lunch a class. Just as she was about to say something, a loud rumbling interrupts her. It's so sudden that I actually pull out my wand, only to find Albus looking at us with a guilty face. I forgot he was here.

"Was that your stomach, Al?" Rhea asks with a laugh.

Albus's cheeks tinge a faint scarlet. "What? I'm hungry!" he says defensively. I'm doing my absolute best to try to hide my chuckles. "It's been, what, nearly three hours? Blimey three whole hours without food!"

"Maybe we should ditch the books and look for some?" I offer. Then a question pops into my head.

"How did you two get food last night? You had to eat didn't you?"

Rhea and Albus exchange hesitant expressions. _I swear these two are going to drive me mental_. I give _them_ expectant looks. Albus lets out a deep sigh.

"Well, at first," he begins, "we decided to hunt, seeing that as our only option. We didn't know that this was Hogwarts until it finally dawned on us. Our portkey landed just outside the edge of the lake. Since we were already outside, why not right?" I shake my head in agreement. "So, Rhea and I headed towards the forest. In time we saw a couple of animals – "

"Animals?" I interrupt. I thought this Hogwarts was a ghost town.

Albus nods, "Yeah, but not one's we'd usually see – "

"For example," Rhea cuts in, "I could've sworn I saw a turtle, and Albus stopped me to point out an eagle!"

"Here? In Hogwarts?" I ask skeptically. None of this makes any sense at all.

"That's what we were –"

"Oi! I'm telling the story here!" Albus chimes is. Well, more like shouts. After a mumble of "sorry" from his cousin, he continues. "Anyways, after seeing all _that_, we thought we were going a bit mad, so we made clear of the forest. About an hour later we ran into, some, well… trouble." He lingers on the last word.

"Trouble?" I repeat. Clearly, this isn't going to be good. Albus shifts his weight uneasily, and starts to preoccupy himself with is untidy brown hair. Rhea then takes over.

"We crossed paths with another set of wizards. A girl from my school, Liesel, the little prat," she adds with a scrunched expression, "and a witch from here." Rhea glances at Albus who is still trying to flatten his hair.

"Kimberly Chang." He murmurs affectionately. His ears turn a bright shade of pink.

"Right," Rhea digresses, "so before we could have talked to them, they attacked us and before I knew it, I was blasted away by the Chang girl. When I got up and approached them… I saw Liesel lying on the grass clutching her side. Her robes were an unnaturally… red - for our school colors." she clears her throat. "The other girl fled."

A few moments go by before I ask, "Why didn't you get her Albus?" But I know why, he fancies her. Every boy has at one point.

"I was too busy looking at what I did to Liesel." He says softly. The quiver in his voice frightens me. I look up to see Albus grim-faced and when he speaks, his voice trails miles away. Guilt, and something worse than that, is etched all over his face. "I hurt her. I hurt her very badly." He chokes out.

My heart soaks and is drenched with nothing but utter revulsion and shame on my behalf. _How could I have been so insensitive? _ Albus may have just – ended someone's life. Accidently of course, but nevertheless a girl may have died. This brings up so many questions, but even I am not cold enough to insist on questioning. I can already see the guilt eating him alive. My head is going to explode soon from too many emotions…

Rhea continues, "While the Chang girl left, a large piece of bread dropped from her pocket." She finishes quietly. Through the silence I can hear a sniffle from the Potter boy and I can see the Delaclour representative blinking rapidly. I gently change the matter, "Well, I think it's time for our won little adventure. Let's go look fro our own food, shall we?" I supply a delicate smile. Both cousins nod and we grab our wands as we make our way out of the library.

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"Al, do you even know where we are going?" presses Rhea. Our walk down corridors and staircases resulted in Albus taking the lead, claiming that he knew exactly where the hidden Hogwarts kitchens are.

"Of course I do, just relax." assures Albus, still trying to sweep his messy hair from his eyes. We walk down our fourth flight of stairs, and enter our eleventh corridor. Hogwarts without students (at least not one's that are trying to kill each other) or teachers is quite an eerie sight, not even the paintings seem alive. In fact, I pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming. Unfortunately, I'm not. A couple of minutes later, an idea strikes Albus.

"Let's go check out the Great Hall." He proposes. I raise an eyebrow.

"Why the sudden change in direction?" I ask.

He shrugs, "Why not?" and with that (and an aggravated sight from his cousin), we journey our what there, careful on the lookout. It isn't long before I hear something; a flapping of wings. I stretch out my arm to signal Albus and Rhea to halt.

"Do you hear that?" I whisper.

Albus emerald eyes stay still, straining to hear the bird. Rhea cups her ear, waiting. The bird's wings bat again, and the noise echoes through the corridor.

"That way." points Rhea to her right. One after another, we creep our way towards a window, hoping to see a bird perched there. In my excitement of proving my theory of the lack of birds at Hogwarts wrong, I crane my neck to get a glimpse. Albus gently grabs my wrist. I turn to face him, flicking my eyes from my wrist to his eyes, he flushes again and he quickly lets go, unaware of the stirring sensation in my stomach.

He puts a finger to his lips and he draws my attention to something beneath the window. There on the floor is a little canary bathing himself in the memorial that Fred and George Weasley bestowed us here, rebelling the Ministry those many years ago. I look back at Rhea, who is now reading the plaque on the wall adjacent to the swap. She smiles to herself, her eyes wide with admiration.

"You know, I always thought I am a lot like them." She says thoughtfully.

Albus laughs lightly while walking over to Rhea, "I couldn't agree more." He moves over to her and places a hand on her shoulder, as she rests her head on his. They whisper to each other and I can make out certain words like, "Uncle George" and "remember", things of that nature. I suddenly feel very, very alone.

While the relatives reminisce on their favorite memories, my ears pick up yet another noise, the sound of scuffling. I turn ever so slightly to the doorway. Could it be –?

"Hey, psst! " I hiss softly to Rhea and Albus, careful not to give away our names, just in case. "Hey!" I try to get their attention by waving my arms violently. Albus catches my eyes, stops whispering and he takes notice of my urgent whispers and mouths "What?"

I make a pointing motion to the noise.

"Do you hear that?" I barely breath. Rhea turns away from the memorial, confused at my tone of voice.

"Willow, the bird already flew – "

But where the bird flew , I'll never know, because the wall behind us just exploded. Pieces of hard, ancient, stone fly everywhere, one cuts into the edge of my jaw line. Panic abruptly rises fiercely within me, while my eyes search frantically for, well, my friends. Because of the heavy dust layer, my eyes are blinded, but I can hear the spells crashing against the walls, creating more debris everywhere. I decide to wait until the dust settles, I don't want to accidently hit Albus or Rhea, so I quietly creep behind the stairwell with my wand out. Because the thick murky clouds of dust have no affect on sound, thank Merlin, I hear shouts coming from both sides of the fight.

"Rhea, on your left!" Albus yells. More crashing and clanging, even some splashing.

"Think your so quick, potter? I haven't forgotten about out little – exchange, earlier." My blood freezes, It's Kellan Parkinson . I struggle to get up, ready to take him on but before I take a step, he shouts, "Incendio!"

Once again, the place is billowing in smoke. _Fire, why is it always fire? _I see the flames peeking out behind the stairwell, and I sojourn, fast. Suddenly, I'm back in the forest. The smoke is strangling my throat. I see Vlad standing over me. The flames are rising with every second. Terror fills my every fiber of being. _I'm going to die. _I start to hyperventilate, and sweat beads cover my forehead. _Not the forest, not again._ I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the nightmare to end. Vlad laughs his terrible laugh. _Get away from me! _ I bit my lip and pull my hair back, even though its already in a pony tail. Ugly coughs come out of my mouth, the same feelings reoccur as they did in the forest. _I'm going to die._

"Willow? Willow!" Rheas screams hysterically. _I need to get out of here, I have to get out of here. _I fight the dust without success, looking for an exit.

"WILLOW! WILLOW WHERE ARE YOU?!" screams Albus. "WILLOW!" He screams again, choking on each word.

I turn on my heels, towards his voice. "Albus!" I yell, but it gets stuck in my throat. "Albus! " I try again. My voice comes out weak and raspy. "Agumenti!" I croak, but by now it is too late. The fire is everywhere. There is no escape, but to take the stairs. I frantically run up the stairwell, and I'm halfway up when someone grabs hold of my ankle. They tug at my pants, and I say, "Stupefy" but the attacker ducks.

"Kellan get off of me!" I croak a bit loader. The smoke has reached up here.

"How dare you leave us! I though we had an alliance!" he yells.

"Well, you thought wrong! I'm not on your side anymore!" I counter and I aim a good kick at his shoulder.

"You little, prat." He snarls, "I trusted you! WE TRUSTED YOU!" The provoker seizes my left leg, and I shake him off.

I try to step up with my right leg, while grabbing the edge of the stair, but my sweaty hands slip off, causing me to fall back, right on top of the Kellan. He grabs both off my wrists and drags me through the smoke to the other side, past the memorial, past the doorway, I close my eyes to shield them from the burning sensation. I feel him shove me into a closet, and the he slams the door in my face. I blink my eyes open, all the smoke is gone but I smell brunt hair, clothes, even skin. The scars on my hands are clearly visible, they need some serious remedying. I instantly search my pockets from my wand, thinking I placed it there. Kellan took it. I pull twist the knob of the door, and just as I suspected it was locked. Anger rushes through me as I pound and kick hard on the supply closet door and pull the knob ferociously.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE! OR I BLOODY SWEAR YOU WONT MAKE IT TO SEE THE LIVING DAY WHEN I COME OUT!" I roar.

"I don't know. That didn't seem very convincing, did it Albus?" Rhea's voice is dripping with pure hatred and abhorrence. The voice that I though was Kellan's proved to be my what- once alliance's.

Albus beautiful voice is traded in for one full of hurt and disgust "Goodbye, Willow. If anything this betrayal brought us closer together, as enemies."

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**Thanks for reading, and PRETTY PLEASE WITH THE SORTING HAT ON TOP review! It doesn't take much time!:) Thank you!**

**huff-slyn-dor-claw**


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